


12 Years Later

by hopelocklet



Series: 12 Days Of (Drarry) Christmas [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mistletoe, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 11:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13145850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelocklet/pseuds/hopelocklet
Summary: In Eighth Year, Blaise predicts that the budding romance between Harry and Draco will grow and the pair will end up together. Pansy hates it when Blaise is right.





	12 Years Later

“They’re doing it again,” Pansy said disdainfully as she plopped herself on Blaise’s lap.

“Doing what?” Blaise said, more than a little annoyed. He pushed Pansy off of his lap and she glared at him.

“You’re a real self-righteous prick, you know that?” Pansy said, but Blaise shrugged.

“Everyone we know are self-righteous pricks.”

“Not Granger,” Pansy said pointedly, giving her hair a little toss as she did so.

“You only say that because you have a crush on her. Now, what were you saying before? Who’s doing what again?”

“Draco and Potter,” Pansy said with a roll of her eyes. “They’re taking a winter-wonderland walk around the lake like a pair of lovesick Hufflepuffs.” Pansy paused to sneer. “This is the fifth time this week. I think yesterday I even saw them having a snowball fight.”

“If you can have a crush on a Gryffindor why can’t Draco?”

“That’s different,” Pansy said defensively. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Blaise rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. I’m happy for Draco. Him and Potter will never be as great of a couple as Theo and I, but still. They really have something. I can see them getting married and having kids and growing old together.”

Pansy fake-gagged. “They better not.”

…

Draco and Harry returned to Hogwarts from their walk just as the sun was setting.

Draco had just figured out a charm that would make their breath (clearly visible in the cold winter air) morph into shapes and letters. They were  still laughing over Draco making Harry’s breath spell out, ‘I am the Frozen One’ when they stumbled into the castle.

“You have to show Hermione that. She’ll be furious that you know a charm she doesn’t.”

Draco shook his head adamantly. “I am way too scared of Granger to make her upset.”

“Oh, is it because of third year? Poor Draco is still traumatized by that?” Harry teased as he took off his gloves and shoved them into his pockets.

“Shut up,” Draco said, and he swatted Harry with the Slytherin scarf he’d just taken off. Harry laughed. For Draco, Harry’s laugh was infectious, so he began laughing too.

They were still laughing and walking down the corridor when suddenly the two of them became stuck in place. Harry tried to taking another step, but he found that he couldn’t.

“What the-”

“Potter, look up,” said Draco.

Harry did, and above his and Draco’s heads he saw a mischievous, evil, little plant.

“Mistletoe,” Harry said.

“Yes, mistletoe,” Draco said. He tilted his head as he seemed to consider something.

“What?” Harry said, turning slightly pink because he thought Draco might be thinking about kissing him.

“Just, it’s a little odd that you recognized the mistletoe, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve always assumed you were bollocks at Herbology.”

Harry chuckled nervously and shoved Draco lightly. “Don’t be a prat.”

“Why not? It’s what I do best.”

“Because this,” Harry pointed up at the mistletoe, “is a real problem. How do we get rid of it?”

“We kiss,” Draco said simply. Harry gulped. “Or we wait an hour.”

Harry breathed heavily. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”  
“Well, we could kiss.”

“We could.”  
“Or we could wait an hour.”

“Yes, that is also an option.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Harry said, “I wouldn’t mind kissing you.”

“Really?” Draco said excitedly. Upon realizing how eager he sounded, Draco changed his tone to make it indifferent then said again, “Really?”

Harry fidgeted with the gloves in his pocket and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I like you. Don’t you like me?”

“Of course. But, do you like me or _like_ like me?”

“Well, I thought we were- That is, I- Yes. I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Draco’s eyes widened and he nodded slowly. “Yes, um, please do.”  
Harry leaned in hesitantly. He put a hand on Draco’s cheek and Draco’s eyes fluttered shut. Harry knew his heart was going faster than a Firebolt when he closed his eyes as well and lightly pressed his lips to Draco’s. Draco made a small sound, like a whimper, or something. Harry didn’t know if that meant he should stop, so he moved to pull away, but then Draco grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer. He let Harry deepen the kiss and made one of those little whimpers again, which Harry figured out was a good sound.

A decent amount of time passed before they pulled apart. When they did, Draco confessed quietly, “Um, I probably should have told you this sooner, but I _like_ like you.”   
Harry smiled. “I _like_ like you too.”   
…

When Draco and Harry entered the eighth year common room later that night hand in hand, Pansy sighed a horrible, drama-queen sigh.

“Fuck my life,” Pansy said, and Blaise winked at her.

…

“Fuck my life,” Pansy said again, twelve years later at the Malfoy-Potter Christmas party.   
“Watch your mouth,” Blaise told her snarkily as he piled another four eclairs onto his plate. “There are children here.”

Pansy eyed Blaise’s over-full plate in disgust and said, “Sorry, but they’re doing it again.”

“Who’s doing what again?” Blaise said, not taking his eyes off his dinner.

“Ugh, them,” Pansy said, gesturing to Draco and Harry.

Blaise glanced up, smirking when he saw the Malfoy-Potters standing under the mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the kitchen, kissing passionately as if no one else was there. “Don’t you hate it when I’m right?”

Pansy glared sharply at Blaise. “What do you mean when you’re right?”

“I predicted this, didn’t I? They’re married, they have kids,” Blaise paused to smile and wave at Lyra and Lily, Draco and Harry’s twin four year olds, seated at the kids’ table. “And they bought this big house to grow old together in.”

Pansy sighed. “I do hate it when you’re right.”


End file.
